My Old Friend Felix
by DogWithTheCream
Summary: Harry takes dose of Felix Felicis to try and win a bet, but it leads him to a place-and a person-that he didn't expect. Will he cope with the unexpected changes in his point of view? Rated T for language. I don't own any of these characters, all are J.K. Rowling's.
1. My Old Friend Felix Ch1

_Ron is going to get what's coming to him, cocky git_ , thought Harry as he ambled down to the Quidditch pitch. He'd been telling anyone who would listen that all Harry's success on the broom came from his superior models, so Harry bet him 10 Galleons that he could beat him without the Firebolt.  
Of course Ron thought it was only fair that _he_ get the Firebolt.  
Well Harry wasn't short of Galleons, but he wasn't going to let Ron beat him. It was the principle of the thing. He figured he'd just let Ron off on the 10 Galleons once he won so he didn't feel too bad about the little bottle of Felix Felicis tucked into his robes. Slughorn had given it to him just before he resigned from his teaching post. He had recovered from the discovery that his prize student wasn't actually any good at potions, the Chosen One was too big a catch to lose from the Slug Club after all.

The sky above Hogwarts was so blue it hurt to look at. _Great weather for Ron to get his ass handed to him_ , Harry surmised happily.  
It seemed as if half the school had filed into the stands, eager to watch two of the eighth year heroes from the Battle of Hogwarts fight it out in the air. News travelled fast. They'd planned the confrontation in the Gryffindore's free period, but from the look of the crowd, not everyone was there on their own time. Headmistress McGonagall wouldn't be happy.  
Not just Harry and Ron were getting attention. Since Voldemort's downfall, almost all the students who had fought in the battle received fan mail. Especially poor Neville, who was constantly being hounded by giggly first years. Seamus had also become very popular, people would follow him around and swoon at his irish accent.

When he reached the pitch, Dean, the self-imposed mediator of the bet called him over.  
"Oy Harry, be a dear and fetch yourself a nice broom from the equipment room. Not a swanky one either. Cleansweep or slower, got it?"  
Grumbling about bigheaded gits, Harry jogged over to the store room, pausing to take a quick swig of the bottle in his pocket.  
 _Maybe I'll get lucky and the broom won't fall apart in the air._  
Harry pushed the door open and closed it behind him. He grabbed the first broom he saw (a Cleansweep so old it predated Merlin) trusting to the bubbly feeling from the luck potion. Just as he turned to leave the door swung open and an irate Draco Malfoy crashed into the room.  
"I'm warning you Peeves!" Roared Malfoy.  
"If you don't want the full force of Slytherin house against you-and that includes the Bloody Baron-you'll bugger off."  
"His usually immaculate blonde locks were soaked and covered in what looked like bits of water balloon.  
"Had a water fight Malfoy?", remarked Harry, heartened by his bedraggled appearance.  
Malfoy turned to Harry and his eyes hardened as he noticed his happy expression.  
He continued, happy to annoy the pompous prick, "I thought you purebloods were too superior to be affected by something so Muggle."  
"Superior to you maybe, Potter," retorted Malfoy, spitting out the last word like it had a nasty taste, "But that's not hard is it?"  
Something's off about Malfoy, Harry realised. He seemed very hassled, more so than you'd usually be after a prank by Peeves (the troublesome ghost was something every student at Hogwarts had come to terms with by this point) and if there was one thing Harry had learnt from following Malfoy all through 6th year, it was what he looked like agitated.  
The distinctive click of a lock interrupted Harry's musings and both boys glanced sharply to the now-locked door.  
Peeves' voice could be heard drifting down the corridor,

"Poor Malfoy and Potty, locked in all alone!" He let out a raucous laugh that audibly trailed off as he sped away.

Quidditch reflexes kicking in, Harry instinctively drew his wand and tried Alohomora. He tried the door. Still locked. Harry let out a low groan and slid down the wall. "Great. Just fucking great."

Malfoy glared at Harry as if it was all his fault.  
"Now I'm going to bloody miss my first lesson. Did you put that damn poltergeist up to this? It reeks of the famous Gryffindor idiocy."  
"In case you haven't noticed Malfoy, I'm just as stuck in here as you are," replied Harry, all the joy gone out of baiting the Slytherin. strong"I had plans as well, not that you care."  
"Ah yes. The much anticipated one-on-one Quidditch match between The Chosen One and his trusty sidekick The Weasel. Batman and Boy Wonder. The Whinging Ginger and The downfall of Vol-" Malfoy's spiteful sneer turned into a grimace as he realised what he'd almost said.  
"Whats the matter Malfoy? Scared Voldemort will get you from beyond the grave?"

When Malfoy's face lost what little colour it had, Harry almost felt bad for probing at this wound. You Know Who was still a sore spot in the wizarding world; most people had lost family members in the paranoia-filled times after Dumbledores death and in the ensuing Battle of Hogwarts. Everyone knew someone who had died. Harry looked at the ground and his eyes grew a little moist as he thought back to all those he'd never see again. _Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, all go-_

No. He refused to cry in front _Malfoy_ of all people.  
"He's done it before.  
There must have been a questioning light in Harry's eyes because Malfoy explained.  
"Vol-You Know Who. He's come back from the dead before."  
Then, as if to make up for his for this moment of vulnerability, Malfoy followed up with a jab.  
"I guess you didn't kill him well enough the first time did you Chosen One? Your parent's wouldn't be too proud."  
"Shut up Malfoy."  
"No one seems to be missing you do they? No one concerned that the Great Potter hasn't turned up. Maybe they've realised what a complete bloody waste of space you are. No use now you've done the wizarding world's dirty work for them."  
"I said SHUT UP!" All of Harry's anger, anger that had been raging and growing and boiling since the war pushed him forward, fist first, into Malfoy's nose. Malfoy yelped in pain as blood spurted from his nostrils. Harry's hand hurt like hell but he wasn't going to him know that. It was the first real satisfaction that he had felt since the hunt for the Horcruxes.  
 _How's that for a bloody waste of space?_


	2. Chapter 2-Harry Has An Epiphany

Harry almost felt sympathetic when he saw the reproachful look he was getting. Almost.  
When he thought back to all the times Malfoy had insulted Ron's family ( he was a git but Harry loved him really) or called Hermione a Mudblood he wanted to punch the dick again. This time though, he let the feeling pass. Sometimes the strength of emotion he felt towards Malfoy concerned him.  
 _But thats just how enemies feel. I have strong emotions towards him because I hate him. Thats all._

Satisfied with this explanation, Harry looked back towards the injured blond. For a moment of weakness he felt sorry for hitting him (though he had it coming) and attempted to make up for it.  
He vocalised awkwardly, unused to swapping words not intended to wound.

"I've got some tissues in my pocket if you want one. You know, for your nose."  
"Your eloquence never ceases to amaze me Potter," voiced Malfoy endeavouring to show that the punch had not fazed him in the slightest. If he was surprised by Harry's mood swing from enraged to apologetic, then he didn't show it.  
Malfoy's constant indifference bothered Harry. He didn't know why and was always careful not to show it irked him. "Want one or not?"  
"Fine," Malfoy was always diligent in showing just how much it pained him to address an inferior like Harry.  
As Harry handed him a thin white tissue, whiter even than Malfoy himself, he noticed something odd about his posture.

Unlike the usual poker-straight stance of the upper class pureblood he always loved to hate, this Malfoy was slightly hunched over.

He looked porcelain and fragile, as though he would shatter at the least force. Harry resisted the temptation to reach out and touch him, this elfin figure, white and blood red- _This is Malfoy! Ferret Face, Draco Muggleborns-Are-The-Devil Malfoy_. _No more of that._

Now Harry had told his strange brain who was boss, he turned his attention back to Malfoy. While the Slytherin still seemed slightly unsteady, Harry was sure he could see some amusement there too.

"Something funny Malfoy?"

"Just your vacant expression Potter. So typical of a dumb Gryffindor."

"All sympathy towards Malfoy evaporated. _He couldn't just be human for more than a second._

"Since I'm such an idiot, tell me, oh cunning one, how we're going to get out of here."

"Well Potter, if we're lucky, someone will come past and we can ask them to unlock the door,"

 _Lucky!_ Thought Harry. He had forgotten completely about the bottle of luck potion in his pocket. The sip he had taken earlier probably hadn't worn off yet. So why am I stuck in here?  
"'You're doing it again," drawled Malfoy. He too had slunk down to the floor. I didn't think it was possible for someone to lounge in a dusty store-room.  
"What?"  
"Staring into space."  
"I'm just thinking."  
"What about?" It might have been imagined but Harry thought he heard a curious edge to Malfoy's familiar dry tone.  
"Why do you care?" He really was behaving weirdly today.  
"Well there isn't much else to do in there is there? Or would you rather sit in silence until someone ambles in here and lets us out."  
"We don't exactly have the best track record for 'just talking' do we Malfoy." he gestured to the tissue held up to his companions bloody nose.  
"Theres a first for everything."  
"Well this is odd. We're being civilised. I can almost forget what a colossal prick Malfoy is.  
"You know about potions, right Malfoy?"  
"What an amazing observation Potter. Yes I know about potions." Harry decided to ignore the sarcasm.  
"Does Felix Felicis always work?"  
"The luck potion? If properly brewed, yes."

 _I'm sure Slughorn did his job properly_ , so why did Felix let me come here? _When I was getting the memory for D-Dumbedore-_ Harry almost choked on the thought- _it led me straight to where I needed to go._  
Malfoy broke into Harry's train of thought, "Something to add?"

Harry must have been imagining it. He sounded...concerned. He Malfoy was perfectly composed-as usual-but Harry swore he could detect worry in his tone. Probably realises he'd have no one to torment if I wasn't around. But now he thought about it, there hadn't been much tormenting over the past few weeks. Not since the end of the war. Sure he'd seen Malfoy in the corridors, caught a smouldering-err I mean angry-glare or two, but there had been no trading insults, no heated confrontations, no nothing. _I miss Malfoy._ The realisation hit Harry like a bag of Hogwarts A Histories. _I miss Draco-goddamn-Malfoy._  
 _So this means I enjoy spending time with Malfoy?_

Harry didn't understand why Malfoy was looking at him like nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Well maybe that was a bit of an overstatement, but Harry was so used to feeling nothing but pure, distilled, unadulterated hatred toward Draco Malfoy, that anything else threw him totally out of recognised territory

"Malfoy?" Harry leant against the slightly damp wall.

"Yes Potter."

"What do you want to do when you leave Hogwarts? He slid a little down the wall.

"I don't have a fucking clue."

"Me neither."By this point, both boys had sunk down to the floor and were part lying, part sitting on the cold tiles.

"I thought you wanted to be an Auror." Harry didn't bother to ask how he knew. Almost everything about him had been public knowledge since his first day at Hogwarts.

"I don't know...I mean, I used to but...I had enough of that fighting dark magic crap in the war."

"Malfoy." They were flat on the floor now.

"Yes Potter." Harry heard a rustling of material and Malfoy's leg brushed past his head.

"How are we going to get out of here? No one's come to look for us." He looked up and saw a glint of steel in his companion's stormy grey eyes.

"What a pair we are. The Fucking Boy Who Lived and the disgraced Slytherin Prince. In a closet. Wanna play seven minutes in heaven Potter?" his tone was scornfully mocking, not towards him, but the situation and Harry knew better than to rise to the bait.

"More like 24 hours. We could be stuck in here overnight." Malfoy let out a derisive snort.

"Ever the optimist Potter."

"Yeah well I haven't had the best luck in the past have I?" It was a rhetorical question, but Malfoy looked  
him dead I the eye and replied, in a voice too soft to have come from his taunting lips,

"No, you haven't."

"Malfoy?" Harry leant against the slightly damp wall.

"Yes Potter."

"What do you want to do when you leave Hogwarts? He slid a little down the wall.

"I don't have a fucking clue."

"Me neither."By this point, both boys had sunk down to the floor and were part lying, part sitting on the cold tiles.

"I thought you wanted to be an Auror." Harry didn't bother to ask how he knew. Almost everything about me has been public knowledge since my first day at Diagon Alley.

"I don't know...I mean, I used to but...I had enough of that fighting dark magic crap in the war."

"Malfoy." They were flat on the floor now.

"Yes Potter." Harry heard a rustling of material and Malfoy's leg brushed past his head.

"How are we going to get out of here? No one's come to look for us." He sat up and saw a glint of steel in his companion's stormy grey eyes.

"What a pair we are. The Fucking Boy Who Lived and the disgraced Slytherin Prince. In a closet. Wanna play seven minutes in heaven Potter?" his tone was scornfully mocking, not towards him, but the situation and Harry knew better than to rise to the bait.

"More like 24 hours. We could be stuck in here overnight." Malfoy let out a derisive snort.

"Ever the optimist Potter."

"Yeah well I haven't had the best luck in the past have I?" It was a rhetorical question, but Malfoy looked  
him in the eye and replied, in a voice too soft to have come from his normally taunting lips,

"No, you haven't."

"Malfoy."

"Yes Potter."

"Why didn't the Felix Felicis work?"

"I don't know."

"Isn't it meant to help you achieve what you want to achieve?"

"It is is." Malfoy's eyes turned slightly glassy and his thoughts seemed to turn inwards. For almost a minute there was silence and both boys absconded into contemplation

"Maybe you wanted to be here?" He sounded bored enough, but did Harry see something like hope in his eyes? _No, impossible._

 _Right, yeah, stuck in a broom closet with my worst enemy._ But as the words entered his head, Harry re-evaluated them. Malfoy wasn't his enemy. Voldemort used to be his enemy. But Malfoy was just in the wrong family, the wrong side of history. _And none of it was his fault_

So instead of saying these words out loud, he said, "Maybe."


	3. Chapter 3-Harry and Draco All Alone

It must have been at least 4 hours.

harry would never have thought that he could enjoy spending time with Malfoy, but time hadn't gone by as slowly as he thought it would.

They had talked, with the minimum amount of barbs and insults that could be expected.

"Animagi should be registered. what is someone turned into an ant and got trodden on? Their family wouldn't know what the hell had happened to them!

"No one's going to be stupid enough to get trodden on." retorted Harry,"You should give people more credit,"

"Some people are idiots Potter, you'd better just accept it." His previous bitter sarcasm had been replaced by a bemused smirk.

 _Shut up Malfoy._ "You would know, your best friends are two of them."

"Crabbe and Goyle are highly intelligent wizards, I'll have you know."

At this ridiculous statement, Harry burst out in a peal of laughter.

For a moment, Malfoy just stared at him, a look of disbelief on his pale face. Then he joined in. The sight of the Slytherin's normally composed face contorted in mirth made Harry's amusement even stronger. They laughed until they could laugh no more, until their sides were heaving and their robes were covered in dust from the store-room floor. I _'ve never heard Malfoy laugh before,_ Harry realised. His usual derisive snorts didn't count as laughter. It was an easy, relaxed sound, hard to reconcile with the ordinary unruffled facade.

"I've never seen you laugh before," vocalised Harry.

"Really? I think I've had a laugh at your suspense quite a few times actually." This mention of all their past altercations didn't aggravate Harry as much as it would have done any other day.

"Yeah, I remember thanks. But I meant real laughter, that reaches your eyes. They...light up when you laugh." _That came out wrong._

"I wouldn't have taken you for a romantic Potter." The sarcasm was back. "Have you been writing poetry about my eyes? You wouldn't be the first." Malfoy snickered a little at his own joke. Harry went a little red, surprising himself, and, hoping the other boy hadn't noticed, quickly retorted to cover up his unease.

"It's hard to compete with someone, to despise someone, for seven years and not once notice their eyes Malfoy."

He carried on as if Harry hadn't spoken. "Oh Draco, your lips! Your eyes! I can't sleep at night for thinking about your soft hair! A look at harry told the crowing Slytherin that he had gone a step too far. The Saviour of the Wizarding World was beet red and his hands, curled into fists, were shaking slightly.

"Come on Potter. It's just my little joke." There was even a hint of apology in his voice.

"Some jokes aren't funny Malfoy. Now, if you're done flirting with yourself, lets find a way out of here.

The joking light faded out of his companions eyes. "Fine. If that's what you want."

"What have we got. what can we use to escape?"

"No one has found us so far. We should assume that we're on our own for the time being." Malfoy narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment, then reached into his pockets and pulled out an assortment of oddities. A half-eaten chocolate frog was followed by an expensive looking Sneakoscope, a quill in the Slytherin colours, an empty packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and what looked like a dead mouse.

Harry raised an eyebrow as the last item was placed gingerly on the floor. Malfoy must have seen his confusion, because he clarified for him.

"I found it in the common room and petrified it. I was going to release it into the grounds later."

Harry was surprised he hadn't just killed it. Maybe he thought it would be too messy. _Or maybe Malfoy has hidden sensitive depths._

When Harry emerged from his pondering, he saw Malfoy looking at him expectantly. A few awkward seconds passed as he tried to figure out what was wanted. Malfoy looked pointedly at Harry's robes. When Harry still looked bank, Malfoy let out an exasperated sigh. "For Merlin's sake! Your pockets Potter. Empty your pockets."

Embarrassed, the clueless Griffyndor quickly complied. Out came several crumpled pieces of parchment, some with writing, some without, an extremely squashed Cauldron Cake and, of course, the little bottle of Felix Felicis.

Malfoy saw the bottle and remarked, "Still got some luck potion left I see. Pity it doesn't seem to have given you much luck."

Harry grunted in agreement. Malfoy added, hopefully, "Maybe it will work for me?"

"Ever the optimist Malfoy. Even if the potion works, and I am doubtful that it does, then it wont help you any more than it has helped me."

"Why not?"

"Because we both feel exactly the same towards each other."

"Pure hatred."

"Exactly." Both boys lapsed into silence at this thought. Harry didn't know what Malfoy was thinking, but he was thinking this: _Do we really hate each other?_

Malfoy interrupted the break in conversation, "Give it here, I'll try some just in case. Your dose may have worn off."

"It's expensive you know," Harry objected half heartedly.

"Shut up Chosen One, everyone knows you're filthy rich. no give it here."

He handed it over. There was no use arguing with someone that determined.

Hastily, Malfoy took a swig. A strange gleam came into his eyes and he leapt unsteadily to his feet.

"You okay there?" Harry asked as Malfoy staggered about a bit, "Drunk a bit too much Butterbeer?"

Without warning, Malfoy crashed down towards Harry with startling velocity. His face stopped inches away from Harry's.

Malfoy was close enough for Harry to feel his breath on his cheek. _Smells nice,_ thought Harry, surprisingly detached from the situation.


	4. Chapter 4-Call Me Draco

Harry decided to intervene. "Want to get up there Malfoy?"

"Uh…oh yeah." Groggily, Malfoy stood up, only to land with a thump beside Harry.

"Are you really all right?" inquired Harry.

"Is that concern I hear Potter?"

"Well you are the Joker to my Batman."

"Huh?"

 _Forgot. Not Muggle. About as Un-Muggle as you can get actually._

"Without you I would have no one to strive against."

"So," and here he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, "I complete you?"

"Shut up Malfoy."

"But I'm your Prankster."

"Joker. And don't take that as a compliment. He's evil."

"I do take that as a compliment. I try my best to be as evil as I possibly can. Don't tell me you haven't noticed my efforts over the years we've known each other."

Maybe it was the knock on the head, but Malfoy seemed a lot more talkative and a lot more…pleasant. _Maybe it's the Felix Felicis. Why does that damn potion seem determined to throw me and Malfoy together as often as possible! Is it trying to say that we're lucky to be together?_

This thought disturbed Harry so much that he decided to stop thinking it.

He has been a bit of a prick.

"You are a prick."

"You aren't the model of decorum yourself, Potter." He almost sneered the last word. "But we can't expect much from you. You are the Chosen One. The Muggles probably catered to your every whim. I'm sure you lived in the lap of luxury."

This mention of the Dursleys sent Harry into a flurry of thought. _What do you know about my childhood? Catered to my every whim? I lived in a cupboard under the bed and they fed me, sometimes. And I wouldn't call Dudley's hand-me-downs the 'lap of luxury'!_

Only when he looked up and saw Malfoy staring at him, wide eyed, did Harry realise he had said all this out loud. _Oops._

"Cupboard under the stairs! What do you mean cupboard under the stairs!" Malfoy didn't seem to realise he was shouting.

Just to shut him up, Harry said, "Fine, Malfoy. Just don't tell Parkinson, okay?"

Malfoy quickly nodded his assent.

In a torrent of words, Harry recounted all that had befallen him at number four Privet Drive.

Every injustice, every look of hatred, every barbed comment and abuse, all poured out of his mouth, and for the first time since he had told Ron and Hermione, he felt slightly empty, as if hoarding his past had been keeping him going.

When Harry had finished, Malfoy intoned quietly, "They shouldn't have done that to you. I shouldn't have hated you just for what you are, what you can't change."

"How is that different from how Purebloods treat Muggleborns? How they were picked out like cattle in the war. Hermione still has scars."

Malfoy was quiet for a moment. "It isn't like that anymore. I'm not like that anymore."

Surprisingly, Harry believed him. He had changed since the war. Harry could see it in his eyes, and the way he laughed. Before the war he had never seen him laugh. _Probably because of the whole Daddy is a Death Eater thing._

"Well this has been fun."

This nonchalant comment pulled Harry away from his in-depth thinking.

He didn't think Malfoy expected a serious answer, but he gave him one anyway.

"Yeah…being stuck in a confined space with you hasn't actually been that bad."

If Malfoy was at all shocked by this honest, non-sarcastic answer, he didn't show it.

"You make good company, Potter."

"Would it be different, do you think? If I'd taken your hand in First Year."

A short pause in the conversation was followed by Malfoy's answer. "I think... I think You Know Who would have used me against you. And I was a complete dickhead."

Harry laughed at that. "Yeah, you were. But you were also just a kid."

"A kid who practically called your only friend a peasant."

"True. But we were only eleven years old. That's no age to be making lifelong enemies."

"Isn't that the year you met You Know Who." Malfoy gulped then steeled himself, "The year you met Vol…Voldemort." For a moment, fear flashed across his face, and he glanced apprehensively at his forearm, as if suspecting a sudden flare of pain.

Harry felt an odd surge of pride. Why am I proud? It's Malfoy. Then, it's Malfoy! _He said Voldemort's name. He really has changed_.

"Does this make us friends now, Potter." He spoke the last word softly, as if it might be too harsh.

"Friends." Harry tasted the word on his tongue. He liked the feel of it. _Friends with Malfoy. I'd never have guessed that would happen today._

"No more fights then? Or epic verbal bouts in the Great Hall?"

"What will the students of Hogwarts do for entertainment?"

"I'm sure the sight of the Chosen One and the Slytherin Prince casually chatting will be enough entertainment for them."

"Slytherin prince. I like that. Fittingly pompous."

"Shut up you Gryffindor twat." His cheeky grin negated the harshness of the words.

"Ouch. Someone's touchy. Did Pansy break up with you this morning?"

Malfoy glowered at him. "If you kept up with school gossip, you'd know we haven't been a couple for months."

"Consider me successfully caught up."

Harry looked at Malfoy's face. His pointy face (some referred to it as his chiselled features), stupid eyebrows (they had been called perfectly shaped), his messy blond hair (apparently it was very soft) and his astoundingly pale skin (blemish free, Harry almost wanted to touch… _No! No. No. No_!).

After a single moment of hesitation, he held out his hand. Malfoy's eyes met Harry's. His stare was unwavering. Without breaking it, he took his hand and shook it firmly.

A few seconds passed.

"Um…You can let go now."

"Oh. Yeah." With a slight blush lighting up his features, Malfoy released Harry's hand.

"That's better."

"What now?"

"Well, for a start, stop calling me Malfoy. You aren't Snape." Malfoy's mention of the late Potions master gave Harry an odd urge to cross himself.

"What should I call you then?"

"Draco, you idiot!"

A few breaths of contemplation later, Harry replied, "Alright Mal-Draco." _I've called him a lot of things, but never Draco. How strange it sounds._

"Good for you Potter." He grinned as Harry glared at him. "Fine, fine. Harry it is then."

"Now what?"

"Now, we chill." Harry could swear Draco winked at him. _Just my imagination. I have a strange imagination._

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

 _What a weird day._


	5. A Dodgy Awakening

A voice that put Harry strangely in mind of Draco Malfoy's roused Harry from his nap.

"Hey there Harry. How you doing?"

The voice had called him Harry. _It can't be Malfoy_.

Suddenly the day's events streamed back to him. He was…friends now. With Malfoy! With his head on Malfoy's stomach! "Agh, just tell me to get off next time." He rubbed his eyes sleepily, unaccustomed to waking up in broom closets.

"Next time?" Draco waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Fuck off Malfoy."

Draco looked around in mock confusion. "There seems to be nowhere for me to go."

"Why are you so aggravating?!"

"I have had lots of practice."

"It seems like it's a necessary qualification for Slytherin house."

Draco's expression soured slightly. "Not all Slytherins are evil, you know. Just because Voldemort and Grindelwald wanted to enslave humanity, it doesn't mean we all do."

"Sorry." Harry looked sheepish. "Old habits die hard."

"Well let's kill them then."

"That would sound very suspicious out of context."

Draco grinned in response.

"So shall we get out of here or what?"

"Well I was thinking while you had a little nap and I decided that we should try some different spells and see what works."

So they did. A variety of spells and a few burnt eyebrows later, both boys collapsed on the floor, exhausted from their combined efforts to break down the door. Towards the end, they had given up with their wands and tried their hands at being battering rams.

"Well this sucks." Harry glanced at his companion, surprised by how much he was letting his frustration show.

"Yeah, it does."

"So we're stuck here forever then."

"Seems like it."

"Know any spells to make food?"

"No, you?"

"I hoped _you_ would."

"Oh. Umm..."

"So we wait."

"That seems to be the case."

An awkward pause followed this statement.

"So…"

"So."

"I can do water."

"So can I. But we may have to resort cannibalism if this doesn't end soon."

Harry looked at the ceiling and let out a contented sigh. "We'll get out."

Draco frowned. "How can you be so blasé about it? We could die here. I could eat you!"

"I've faced certain death, remember? Uncertain death is a walk in the park." Harry furrowed his brows in thought, "Now I think about it, there were some Dementors in a park once."

Draco let out an exasperated groan. "Can you go more than five minutes without being attacked by something?"

"You sound like Hermione."

Draco sat up straight, affronted, "I do not sound like that Mud..." he saw the look on Harry's face and changed tack, "…Muggleborn. I am much more masculine."

Yeah right, Harry smirked inwardly. Outwardly he said, "Sure Draco, that's right."

The sarcasm was lost on the Slytherin, and he simply smiled at his perceived victory.

"Shall we think of a way to pass the time?" Harry suggested.

"Is my mere company not enough for you?!" Draco simmered with mock outrage.

"Shut up Draco." _Wow. I've progressed from telling Malfoy to shut up to insulting Draco. That will take a while to get used to._

"How about…Shag, Marry, Avoid?"

"Really? I call it Bed, Wed, Behead."

"Call it what you will, it's a damn good way to spend a Saturday afternoon."

"Agreed."

"So…"and here Draco whipped out his devilish grin, "Let us begin!"

(A short amount of time elapses, during which many people are rudely slighted)

"Ron, Hermione and… Pansy!"

Harry looked disgusted. "Ron and Hermione are like my brother and sister! This is a hard one. Um…Behead Pansy, marry Hermione and shag Ron."

When he saw Draco's incredulous expression, he wished he could take back those words.

"Shag Ron! I didn't know the Boy Who Lived was gay!"

"What about it?"

Malfoy looked genuinely flabbergasted. "Wait...you actually are?"

Harry glowered at him, trying to put eight years of resentment into one glance. _Homophobic dick. Bigoted bastard. Lousy-_

"Harry, seriously, I'm sorry. I just didn't see you as queer." He seemed genuinely apologetic.

Grudgingly, Harry let the heat simmer out of his glare. "There isn't a template you know. One gay guy isn't identical to the next."

Draco blushed. "Yeah I know. I just always thought that you and Weasley…" here Harry looked confused and a little worried, "I mean the female one."

The expression cleared. "Me and Ginny? No. Well… we kissed once but I wasn't really into it and I realised, you know, soon after that."

Harry could have been imagining it, but did he see satisfaction in Draco's eyes? Maybe he's happy that I'm not the "Saviour" everyone expects me to be.

"I did kiss Dean once…" Harry looked at the ground, his cheeks bright red.

"Really?" Malfoy didn't sound that surprised

"Yeah. He and Seamus were having a fight (they've been into each other since second year) and he wanted to get back at him. He just didn't realise why he was annoyed. It was because of his feelings for him."

Draco looked thoughtful. "Feelings made him resentful…sound familiar?"

Harry felt a twinge of nostalgia. "Snape, even Ron and Hermione, they all let their bottled up feelings fester until they hated each other." At least Hermione and Ron got together eventually, but I'm also very glad Snape and my mother never did.

Draco appeared guilty about his earlier outburst. "I know someone...a friend in Slytherin. He's gay too. He's been having a pretty hard time."

"Have people been picking on him?!" Harry was prepared to leap to the defence of this mystery Slytherin, wand out, house politics be damned!

"Calm down you hot-headed Griffyndor. No one knows...I mean no one except me."

"Is it Zabini?"

Draco looked confused for a moment, then his expression cleared and he looked almost annoyed. As though he had been waiting to d it for a long time, which he had, he spat out,  
"It's me you dolt. I'm gay."


	6. I Tolerate You

"Come again?" _Did I hear him right?_

"I'm gay!" Draco was getting tired of Harry's shockingly dense mind-set.

"You're…gay?"

"Yes!"

"Uh…cool."

"Cool?"

"Are you out?"

"Guess that's up to you isn't it?" _Should I be annoyed that he thinks I can't keep a secret?_ Harry didn't have it in him to be affronted.

"I won't tell anyone."

"Even Ron and Hermione?" _That must be progress, he didn't say Weasley or Mudblood._ Harry thought about it for a moment, before replying, "I don't think they'll ask."

"Fair enough." Draco ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

"Who knows about you?" Harry couldn't help being curious about the intimate details of Draco's previously unknown secret.

"No one. Well, you do now. But before that, no one." Draco looked into Harry's eyes.

"What about you?"

"Hermione figured it out before I did."

"Of course."

"Ron doesn't know, but that's because he's a thick-skulled bastard."

"I can't help but agree." There would have been a time, possibly that morning, when Harry would have started a fight for less words than those. I can't believe how much I've changed in just a few hours "Do your…parents know?" Draco looked horrified.

"Oh no. Purebloods haven't really moved on from the Middle Ages. Same outfits, same prejudices. My mother would crucify me if she found out."

 _At least he has a mother._ This traitorous thought surfaced in his head before Harry had the chance to stop it. He had promised himself years ago that he would stop comparing his life to others. Especially his friends. _Which I guess Draco is now._ Harry wondered when the right time to tell Ron would be. He would probably find some way to make himself and Harry uncomfortable. Even though there was absolutely no way he would ever be attracted to Ron. Never mind actually act on it if he did. Hermione would crucify him. So would Ron. While the Weasleys were more progressive than the Malfoys, there was still a lingering homophobia that permeated all areas of the wizarding world. Like when the Daily Prophet had been persecuting Hermione, Harry might be the one on the receiving end of Mrs Weasley's sharp stares. A comfortable silence fell between the pair. Neither needed to speak or reassure the other that it wasn't out of spite. Draco let out a long, drawn out sigh. It wasn't an unhappy sigh, merely a bored one.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company Harry. I do, I really do." _Here we go with the sarcasm again._ _Sometimes I think that he doesn't know what sincerity is._ The annoyance in these thoughts was only half-hearted. Harry only felt slight exasperation at Draco's quirks now. Draco snapped his fingers under Harry's nose.

"Impatient as always." "A daydreaming ignoramus as always, Harry. Now where I was…Oh yeah… how the bloody fuck are we going to get out of this thrice-damned shoebox of a cupboard?!" "Calm the bloody hell down Draco!" Harry waited a moment for Draco to simmer down. It's no fun dealing with an angry Slytherin.

"We have to get out Harry. We have to! I can't die in here! I haven't lived! My parents don't know I'm gay! My friends don't know I'm gay!" Harry could the Slytherin was working himself up into a frenzy. So he decided to put a stop to it.

"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! Calm yourself down!" This seemed to do the trick. Draco stopped panicking and just stared at Harry.

"So. It's only been a day, right? And this is Hogwarts, so anything can happen in 24 hours. Our friends could be doing any number of things right now. They could even be frantically searching for us, not thinking to check the broom cupboard, because what idiot would be stuck in there?" Harry felt he was moving away from his original point.

"What I'm trying to say is, at some point someone is going to come and get their broom." Here he gestured to the musty old sticks that lined two of the walls.

"And when they do, they'll notice the door is locked and send for help." Harry hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. Years of bad experience in seemingly innocent circumstances had made him cynical and distrustful of all that appeared to be ordinary.

"You're right."

Even a small amount of response from Draco was more than Harry had been hoping for. It's odd for him to be optimistic at all. Slytherins aren't known for their optimism.

"We'll get out of here eventually...alive or dead." _And there it is._

"Be happy Draco. You couldn't hope for better company."

"I tolerate you, that's all. But, I suppose, at least I'm not stuck in here with Mclaggan. However, I'll be honest with you Harry, I don't dream of the last thing I'll ever see being your ugly mug." Harry stuck his tongue out at him. _Git._

"If you're finished making grotesque expressions at me, shall we make a plan?" "I have an idea." For the sake of drama, he drew closer to Draco and began to whisper animatedly, gesturing all the while.

 **Later that same day...**

The room was filled with a variety of failed escape attempts. A mess of conjured ropes lay in one corner, some of which were still attached to Harry's legs. A broomstick with legs was repeatedly ramming itself against the door, to no avail.  
at five minute intervals, Draco would groan, rise from the floor and shout Alohomora several times at the door, gesticulating wildly with his wand.  
When he pointed it near Harry, the other boy would duck out the way, not wanting to be hit by any stray magic. _Well. We tried. Again._

Harry was surprisingly calm about this. _Me and wavy-wand over there will be in this cupboard forever and-_ Harry's thoughts of acceptance were cut short by a faint noise. He looked at the still-ranting Draco questioningly.  
"Don't look at me. It must be coming from outside." Before both boys had fully absorbed what this meant, they were at the door, yelling and hollering with all the strength they could summon. "Hey you! Get us out of here!"

"Who is there?! In the name of Merlin's bollocks let us out!"

The sound faded away as quickly as it had come. "What on earth was that?" said Harry, slumping to the ground.

"It sounded like...an explosion! A really, really quiet explosion."

"An explosion? Why would there be an exp-wait, it's Hogwarts."

Draco nodded sagely.

"Explosions are more common than chocolate frogs here."

"Precisely."

"What if someone is hurt?" Draco thought for a moment, "Not much we can do really, is there?" "We can shout for help a bit more." Draco nodded, "Yeah, we can do that." Both of them began yelling again, desperation increased. "Come on man! LET US OUT!" "We could starve in here you know!" Another voice rang out, from right next to the door, sarcasm levels raging. "What sort of wizard's can't conjure food?!" Harry and Draco were so startled by this unexpected development that they both jumped back a few feet. "Who's there?" Harry's mistrust was completely justified. Most of his life he had been in danger from the unknown and the known. "Yeah tell us or we'll hex you." Draco's cautious attitude was also justified. He had spent the day in a cupboard with Harry Potter and didn't know what to expect. "Hex me? Through a door? A door protected by centuries of wards cast by the headmasters of Hogwarts? Go on then, try me." _That voice sounds familiar, almost like..._ "Hermione!" Harry yelled, just as Draco, idiot that he is, raised his wand in anger. "Harry?! We've been looking for you all day! What happened? Why are you in the broom cupboard? And who's in there with you?" Harry replied, voice broken in exhaustion, "That's a seemingly very long, but actually surprisingly short story Hermione, and if you let us out we'll tell you all about it."


	7. A Long, Short Story

"Right." The determination that Harry had come to admire and fear was evident in Hermione's voice. _She'll get us out of here. She's never let us down before._

"First things first. How did you get stuck in there, Harry and…other person?"

Instantaneously and simultaneously, Harry and Draco said, "Peeves."

"Ah." Hermione's tone conveyed both amusement and sympathy. There wasn't a student at Hogwarts who hadn't been on the receiving (and suffering) end of one of Peeves' pranks.

"What spell did he use, do you know?"

That was Hermione, always assuming that everyone else was as knowledgeable as her.

"We don't know Hermione."

"And once again, we, would be referring to…?"

Harry sighed, making sure it was loud enough for his friend to hear on the other side of the door. Draco sniggered silently.

"That is something you might want to find out face to face. You will most likely have questions."

"All right then." Without even seeing her, Harry could tell that Hermione was dissatisfied with this answer, or lack thereof. Not knowing would be extremely irritating to the girl who prided herself on 'knowing everything', as Ron said whenever Hermione was better than him at something (which was very often).

"There was a click, and Peeves just flew away, after screwing with us as usual."

"Did you hear him _say_ anything? Colloportus?" Exasperated though she was, Harry could tell Hermione was trying to stay calm and think their way out of the situation.

"We didn't hear anything Hermione. We…we were a bit occupied."

Harry heard a strangled sound come from the other side of the door.

"Occupied?!"

Harry looked at Draco and saw that he was as flushed as he felt. "No, no no. Not that sort of occupied. Talking occupied."

"Oh." Harry could imagine the dark flush that was undoubtedly on Hermione's cheeks receding from this new information. "Talking."

"Yes Hermione. Talking."

"Well you can't blame me for assuming...lots of guys...I mean you aren't unattractive…it wasn't a big leap…no offense meant…not the sort of thing you would do… though if you were then-"

"Mione! I wasn't! We weren't!"

"Right. Back to business. I'm going to the library and search for some alternatives to Alohomora so we can unlock this stubborn door."

"Good luck," called Harry. Draco muttered something similar under his breath.

"I expect to find out who's in there with you!"

"Yes Hermione," Harry droned. It didn't take a stretch of the imagination to see her rolling her eyes.

"Bye then."

"Bye."

Suddenly, Harry remembered something. In a rush of words, he exclaimed, "WaitHermionewhatwasthatexplosionbefore?"

Too late. There was the swift, sharp, repeated sound of boots clicking against the floor, then Hermione was gone from their little universe. _Oh well. I tried._

"We'll just have to ask when she gets back."

"Thanks Captain Obvious." Draco commented drily. Harry put his sarcasm down to their prolonged confinement, rather than spiteful malice.

Harry settled himself as comfortably as he could against the hard wall. "And now we wait."

Draco sank down the wall until he was practically on his back. "Tha' we do 'Arry boy."

"Were you trying to be Hagrid?"

"Yes."

"Please don't."

"Apologies."

"Accepted."

Almost an hour passed and neither boy shifted from their respective positions.

"What is taking Hermione so long?!" moaned Draco.

Harry sighed. This had been the tune of conversation for most of their time spent waiting.

"This is Hermione we're talking about. She could disappear into a library for days and not realise she had been gone more than an hour."

"True," Draco conceded, "But something could have happened. What was that explosion before? Maybe it was something important." A note of panic started to creep back into his voice.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure she'll be back any-" Harry's placation was cut short by a quick, sharp rapping on the door. Harry cast a smug look at Draco. _Told you so,_ he mouthed. Draco raised his fist in mock anger, and mouthed something about bloody arrogant Gryffindors.

"Hermione?" inquired Harry, never one to trust the unknown.

And he was right not to, for the voice that replied was definitely not Hermione.


End file.
